Saturday, March 9, 2024

Frost on the Nettles

 


The other day I went out to the garden first thing in the morning to offer thanks to the nettle patch where I had harvested a small basket of the tender young nettle tops. I steamed them for dinner that evening and relished in the potent nutrition and medicine they offer. Although the thermometer on my porch had not yet fallen to freezing, the leaves were coated with frost.

All week I've been foraging other spring greens for my daily salads, reducing the amount of lettuce and other purchased greens needed. I love this time of year, when the spring pulls green from the earth and I can connect with the garden and land around it by searching out food.

My ancestors, no doubt, foraged a good deal, looking forward to fresh greens after a winter of preserved and stored foods -- salt-preserved meats, fermented vegetables, and possible root vegetables that had not gone bad. Foraging not only connects me to the garden, then, but also to my ancestors  

At present I'm foraging henbit (there is lots and lots of it out there), wild garlic, dandelion greens, a bit of wild lettuce, tiny violet leaves, and some of the herbs, such as catnip, spearmint, fennel, young horseradish leaves, and monarda. The chickweed, my favorite weed, is not yet robust enough to make up much of my salad. I look forward to that day, though. The flavors of these plants range from strong to mild. Henbit has a slightly minty flavor, more earthy than peppermint and other "true" mints to which it is related. It's pleasant enough, but I've never found it tasty enough to pick much of it. However, it is growing on me.

As the spring moves into summer, the composition of my forage will change. Violet flowers and a few other blooms will add spark to the salad. Oxalis and lambs quarters will come in abundance, perhaps I'll even search out garlic mustard. I will continue to harvest nettles to steam for dinner, as well as freeze for later.

When the garden greens start growing, I may slow down my foraging -- but maybe not. Foraged greens tend to be more nutritious than those I plant in the garden or buy in the store. They tend to be a bit more bitter (good for the digestion) and stronger-flavored than the cultivated varieties, indicating their potency as food.

I feel stronger and healthier with my salad bowl full of foraged foods. I feel stronger in my connection to the earth; stronger in my connection to ancestors.

Lots of "weeds" are edible. If you decide to try foraging for yourself, make sure you have a positive identification, and don't harvest from some place where herbicides, insecticides, or chemical fertilizers have been applied. Foraging along busy roads also is not a good idea because of the noxious fumes vehicles emit.

It is an opportunity to look at the job of weeding the garden as "harvesting" good nutritious food. It changes the atmosphere of that chore.

Happy foraging. 

Thursday, February 22, 2024

Ready, Set, Go... Slowly



 This is my Winter sunrise, a brilliant light shining through the bones of trees. Once the branches fill with leaves I won't see the sun for another 15 to 20 minutes. At this time of year I readily rise well before sunrise, so I can experience the gray predawn light and watch the light brighten and the sun top the hill beyond my woods.
Winter aconite

I almost always go out, barefoot, to experience the early morning and take a few deep breaths of fresh air. I like to start the day slowly.

Signs of spring are obvious then in the number of songbirds that fly through the clearing as they wake up and begin to sing. 

This is a time of beginnings... each morning a fresh start. And Spring definitely brings all kinds of new, renewal, regenerations. The birds begin singing, preparing to bring new life into the world. Green begins to poke through the soil and flowers pop up. 

The winter aconite was the first to open its yellow eyes. The yellow crocus is always the first to bloom. The purple and white ones will come soon. 


I love the it's the yellow flowers that are the first to pop open. It's like bringing more sunshine into the world.

More sunshine is what we need at this time of year.

The yellow flowers pull in Spring and encourage all the other flowers.

I think I will strive to be a yellow flower blooming as Winter ends.



Saturday, February 10, 2024

Winter Pruning -- Another Look

These apple trees want to be pruned!

Pruning of the elderberries -- which might more properly be called "slashing" of the elderberries -- has been completed for the year. Although, I will do more pruning as they grow out over the path, or crowd each other. That pruning won't be as severe.

The elderberries aren't the only things to be pruned at this time of year, though. Our apple trees also need to be pruned. Some haven't been taken care of in a few years. As you can see in the photo below, the little Liberty apple tree has become quite crowded with branches. Winter pruning shapes the trees, opens them up so sunlight can reach all the leaves and help produce more apples, and spurs growth. It must be done before mid-March or so, before the tree starts to really wake up. 

The branches of this little apple tree are too crowded.
Pruning apple trees requires more thought than slashing the elderberries, plus a bit of intuition. We've got a book called "How to Prune Everything," and you can find lots of online resources about pruning, plus the local Extension office probably has a resource on pruning fruit trees. Pears and stone fruits (cherries, apricots, peaches, etc.) should be pruned during summer when they are less susceptible to certain diseases. 

I'm also thinking of another kind of winter pruning, often called "decluttering." My sewing room, which also contains a deep freeze and our second refrigerator, needs a good decluttering. I've been going to really go through it for a couple of years. Last winter I even started... cleared off, rearranged and dusted the shelves on one wall.

Thought I'd get back to it. Didn't.

Our garage needs decluttering, clearing out... so does the attic. And the filing cabinets in the office contain files no longer needed. Some files could be thinned. How many years of bank statements do I really need. I could get rid of one of the cabinets if I'd just...

But like with our apple trees, the "pruning" waits.

Another type of pruning has little to do with physical space, and more about mental and emotional space. Do you feel overwhelmed with all the things you must do? Maybe postpone a task or two on the "to do" list. Do you feel too busy with regular activities or commitments? Which one of those things do not "spark joy?" Does something feel like just an obligation, a burden, and no longer something you want to do? Cut it out. Use that energy for the other things that have value to you.

For 30 years I wrote a gardening column. I started it when I worked for a small town newspaper. It began as just a corner of a page with information from Extension. Gradually, it took root and blossomed into a personal column about my gardening experiences. When I quit that job and moved to a neighboring county 16 years ago, I offered it to what is now my local paper. I enjoyed sharing my loves and experiences of gardening.

A few years ago, however, I began to enjoy it less, then it became burdensome. I kept at it because I made a little money from it, and I thought readers would be disappointed if I quit. So I kept slogging away. Last fall, though, I realized that it was dragging me down. I would agonize over the topic, sometimes for days. When I got around to writing, it took a few hours or more. I kept procrastinating for longer and longer periods. It sapped all my creative energy.

One day last fall, I listened to a podcast in which they discussed the topic "Where do you want to put your energy?" One of the people told how she sometimes lays awake at nice worrying and fretting. When she catches herself she asks, "Is this where I want to put my energy?"

Immediately my mind went to the column. My response was lightning fast. In that moment I decided to abandon the column and move on. I sent in a few more and bowed out.

Since then, I've had the energy for creating more posts here, plus start looking at other writing projects that I'd put on hold. I feel free.

We prune apple trees and some other trees in winter when most of their creative energy is in their roots. With fewer branches, they have more energy to put into growing the remaining branches, filling them with leaves and fruit. Proper pruning gets rid of dead, dying and diseased limbs, opens up the canopy so sunlight can penetrate more deeply, and (it is hoped) create a more pleasant looking form.

A little personal pruning can do the same.









Monday, February 5, 2024

Barefoot Again

 


I was barefoot gardening today! 

I began tidying things, starting at the very back of the garden where lots of perennial things grow. The little strip I worked on today contains some native plants that delineate where the back edge is. It creates sort of a transition. Tomorrow I will move to another spot at the very back. I want to start there because when it's time next month to put plants and seeds in the garden the back edge will get neglected, so I want to do some work on it now. The top inch or so of the soil was soft enough to pull little henbit plants, but deeper it's still frozen. That means I have to wait to dig out some things that have gotten too large for the space.

It's also time to start my cabbage and broccoli transplants so they'll be ready for the garden by mid-March. Time to get busy!



Saturday, February 3, 2024

Winter Pruning - Elderberries

 


I took advantage of the spring-like weather yesterday to prune the elderberries, something I had wanted to do for three days. These are the prunings taken from just one of the bushes. Sixteen years ago I bought elderberry cuttings from a woman in Oklahoma who supplied elderberries to a Kansas winery that specializes in elderberry wine. She told me that they needed to be pruned severely each year. She didn't tell me exactly what she meant by "severely," so I did the pruning in various ways. The first few years I pruned a bit timidly.

One shrub pre-prune

For a few years I tried pruning one clump in a more tree-like form. My elderberries are a shrubby, native species, Sambucus canadensis, as opposed to the European black elder, Sambucus nigra, which is a true tree. 

As years went by I started being bolder with my pruning, cutting them back to about my height (5' 3" or 160 centimeters). I would take out some of the really old, large trunks, which often had a lot of dead branches, as well as pruning back unruly branches that stuck out too far. No matter how much I cut off, they always grew to more than eight feet tall with a pretty good spread by the end of the season.

A neighbor told me last night that he prunes his elderberries various ways each year, leaving some unpruned, pruning some to a few feet tall, and whacking some off clear to the ground. He said he hasn't paid any attention to how each pruning style compared to the others. Elderberries are tough plants that grow wild in road ditches and at the edges of wooded areas. When I say they're tough, I mean it. They do prefer damp areas and a tad bit of shade, though. But they will grow in denser shade, full sun and not-so-damp areas.

Same shrub, post-prune
I pruned my elderberries a bit more severely this year to revitalize them. In the process, I took a couple
of cuttings and stuck them in the ground in the larger patch of shrubs. One of the plants is too close to the edge of the patch, where it can interfere with mowing and walking, so I stuck the cuttings in a little farther. Yes, they will take root if you just stick a healthy cutting in damp soil and wait. I was surprised, too when it actually worked. Until I learned that, I had started more plants by digging up the runners, which didn't always work well. Next year I will keep cutting back the shrub that's too close to the edge to keep it in check. 

Several other Sambucus species are native to North America, and most are edible and medicinal. I have no experience with any of those. According to some of the things I've read, some are a cross between S. canadensis and the European elder.

Elderberries provide a number of health benefits, including being antiviral. So the juice, jam, etc. are good to have on hand. You also can make tinctures, and dry the berries to make teas. Elderberry seeds are mildly toxic, so don't eat large quantities of raw berries. The toxin is destroyed by drying and cooking. If you want raw juice put the berries through a juicer that won't crack the seeds. 

Elderberry flowers in June.

The flowers also have health benefits and a delicate flavor. They can be dried and tinctured or used for tea. A pleasant way to use them is in Midsummer wine: steep a lot of the flowers in a white wine overnight, then strain. Pour a glass half full of the wine and add sparkling water and ice. Oh, dear, I'm already anticipating the flowers at Midsummer (in June), and it's only February.

I freeze the whole berries after destemming so I can work them up at a less busy time of year. This year I processed them into a pulpy juice planning to do jam, but stuck it back in the freezer because unanticipated events delayed my working it into jam. It's still in the freezer, patiently waiting.

When I thaw the whole frozen berries, A lot of juice separates from the berries. I dump it all in one of those crank food mills to remove most of the seeds and skin. Then I'm left with a thick, kind of pulpy juice. I use Pomona's Best Pectin, which is reflected in the recipe because it has pectin powder and a calcium solution. 

Elderberry Jam
4 cups processed elderberries
¼ cup lemon juice
¾ teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon cardamom
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
Pinch of clove
2 teaspoons calcium water
1 cup honey
2 teaspoons pectin powder
 

Mix elderberries (measured after processing out seeds), lemon juice, seasonings and calcium water in large saucepan. Bring to boil. Blend pectin with honey. Once liquid is boiling, add honey/pectin blend and stir vigorously for 1 to 2 minutes to dissolve pectin. Bring to boil and remove from heat. Fill hot, sterile jars and process in boiling water bath, 10 minutes for half pints, 15 minutes for pints.



Friday, February 2, 2024

The Thaw

 


We keep a 2x4 horse tank next to our sauna so we can take a cold plunge during saunas... My husband and I do a cold plunge every day because of its many supposed benefits. It's a challenge to get in, but we feel better once it's done.

During our week of bitter, bitter cold the water in the tank froze solid, all the way to the bottom. After three days with the temperature a few degrees above freezing we attempted to dump out the ice. Some melt had occurred, but it wouldn't come out. A day or so later my husband took an ice pick and broke up the ice. And this is a photo of it. The ice is now all melted, except for a very small chunk. 

That makes this a fitting photo for today, the Celtic first day of spring, Imbolc. The thaw begins. I have always dedicated this day to honoring the Great Goddess Brighid -- healer, patroness of artists and craftsmen, forge fire, hearth fire. She has many sacred wells where people go for healing. This is something I wrote for her a number of years ago, and modified a bit today. 

Born in Fire,

Born at the break of day,

You cracked open the World, 

Setting the hills ablaze

With your Sacred Flame.


Your Crown of Flames

Reaches to the Heavens, 

Your Heart is filled with Fire.

You are Living Flame.


Ignite your fire within us

To melt the icy grip of fear.

Ignite within us your fire to melt hardened hearts.

Ignite within us your fire of passion.

Ignite the flame of inspiration.

Ignite the flame that forges,

Create us anew to forge a better world.

Ignite the fire of Justice.


Let your Sacred Wells overflow,

Bringing healing to all hearts.

Throw your Bright Blue Mantle over the world

To heal us all. 

Let your Sacred Wells overflow,

Healing us with Peace.


Spread your green cloak across the land

Growing until it covers all the World

That all shall be Free.




 

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Spring Whispers

Beneath the snow, the garden is green.
This dianthus remained green all winter.

Spring whispers to the trees,

“I am coming.”

Buds swell a tiny bit. Sap rises slowly.

 

Spring whispers to the roots, and bulbs, and rhizomes,

“I am coming.”

Tiny roots begin to dig through the soil, searching.

 

Spring whispers to the seeds lying in the soil,

“I am coming.”

Something stirs within… a tiny plant preparing.

 

Spring whispers to the birds,

“I am coming.”

One bird begins to sing… then another… and another…

 

Spring whispers throughout the land,

“I am coming.”

Winter loosens its grip…

Geese call in formation, headed to summer homes…

A fresh wind blows…

Daffodil shoots test the air…

River ice cracks…

The thaw begins…


The ewe’s belly swells,

Her milk flows.

Spring whispers, “I am coming.

I am here.”


The ancient Celtic holiday begins today and ends sundown tomorrow -- Imbolc, Oimelg, Candlemas, or (not so ancient or Celtic) Groundhog Day.

Ancient holidays always focused on the seasons. They were less about worshiping or honoring deities than about tuning into the cycles of Nature, hearing the rhythms of the Land. They celebrated the ebbs and flows of agriculture and food gathering. In some traditions, this is the true First Day of Spring.


The daylight hours are noticeably longer. River ice might start to thaw. I often hear the call of geese overhead as they fly toward summer homes.

My goal for this coming year is to become even more attune to the cycles of the seasons. They do seem to be changing, so it will require a heightened awareness. And I want to develop a more intimate relationship with the land I live on, not to just learn where the hills and dales are, but to get to know the trees and stones and other beings that live here… to attune energetically with the land that supports me. We can all do this to at least begin to develop a better connection with Nature around us and within us. For we are Nature, too. We’ve just become disconnected from that fact, and thus, disconnected from who we really are, our essential selves.

So I’ve developed a little meditation to help me connect with Nature and the Land on which I live. You can play along, even if you live in a big city. The “concrete jungle” is supported by land, and Nature lives there, too.

Meditation to Honor the Land

Find a place in Nature, with something growing. It can be an open field, a woods, a single tree, a patch of grass, or even a potted plant in the mall.

Look at it closely. Notice colors, shades, shapes, shadows, textures, if there are smells, or sounds. If you feel comfortable doing so, touch the soil, or a plant, embrace the tree, or sit with your back to the tree (ask the tree/plant for permission first). Feel the texture and temperature. Does moss grow on the tree or the soil? Are there pebbles in the soil? And so on. Pay close attention to physical details. No judgement, just attention.

Now breathe, slowly, deeply as you remain aware of Nature around you. Breathe slowly, deeply, become aware of Nature within you. Breathe with the tree, the grass, the soil, the potted plant. Breathe with the Land, slowly deeply. Breathe…

Now, assume that the tree, the grass, the land, etc. has a heartbeat of some sort, a rhythm it keeps. Sync your heartbeat with that heartbeat. Sink deeply into your heartbeat and that of Nature around you, within you.

And breathe… slowly… deeply.

Breathe...

Inhale slowly, deeply...

Exhale, slowly, deeply...

Again...

Do this until you feel satisfied.